#NotAllMen And yet, all men have a role to play.

The conversation around #NotAllMen can be incredibly challenging. It often brings up a wave of defensiveness among men — a quick, almost instinctual reflex to say, "Wait, I didn't do that. That’s not me." It is a protective stance, born from the discomfort of being associated with the worst actions of our gender. But this weekend, my purpose reignited — not that it ever actually stopped — when I sat in a room at Everyman, surrounded by men who were willing to ask the harder questions.

There was no script, no agenda other than honesty. And what came up wasn't defensiveness; it was curiosity. Men asking what it means to be complicit, even unintentionally. Men asking how to speak up when they witness harm. Men asking how to approach other men — not with judgment or moral superiority, but with enough care to actually reach them.

Moving Beyond Defensiveness

We talked about what it means to make a room safer for women when we walk into it. We talked about the nuances of misogyny that have dominated our society, culture, beliefs, and consequently our relationships. It is easy to distance ourselves from the extreme, violent examples of abuse. It allows us to keep our hands clean. But what about the quieter, more normalised kind of harm? The jokes we let slide, the language we ignore, the assumptions we carry? Most of us have been conditioned not to name these things, to let them pass as "just the way it is."

Violence against women is not a women's issue. It never was. It is our issue, and we need to do something about it. And the men in that room understood that. They wanted to step into their role and their accountability. They recognized that stepping up doesn't mean taking the blame for everything; it means taking responsibility for what we can change.

The Men Among Us

But the conversations didn't end there. We had to acknowledge a difficult truth: the perpetrators of harm walk among us. They are not monsters separate from us, lurking in the shadows. They are our fathers, our mates, our managers, our coaches, and our role models. They are men shaped by the same systems, the same silences, the same unexamined beliefs that shaped all of us.

When we realize this, the work shifts. It is no longer about pointing fingers at an abstract "other." It becomes deeply personal. How do we approach these men with kindness? How can we help them see beyond the restraints of their own traumas, their limiting beliefs, and the weight of a culture that never asked them to look inward?

Many of the men who cause harm are acting from a place of deep, unintegrated pain. This is not to excuse their actions — accountability is non-negotiable — but it is to understand the root. How can we create enough safety for these men to finally bring awareness into these matters, without them shutting down completely?

The Power of Connection Over Compliance

This is where the work gets real. The grassroots work being done in spaces like this is raw, sometimes isolating, and often invisible. There is a real gap between policy, research, and the immediate, lived experience of men trying to change. We need to close that gap — not with more frameworks, more rules, or more punitive measures, but with more connection.

We need connection before compliance. Safety before accountability. When men feel safe, when they feel seen and heard without immediate judgment, the walls of defensiveness start to crumble. That is when true accountability can take root.

We need more men willing to sit in the discomfort long enough to actually understand and help each other. It is through this slow, steady work of relationship and connection that we begin bringing down the walls of the embedded patriarchy.

This is the work. It is ongoing, it is messy, and it is entirely worth it. If you are doing this work, or thinking about it, we want to hear from you.